


he makes me shine like diamonds

by bodhirookes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Library, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, and the misadventures of kyoutani trying to explain his feelings, this is just the misadventures of the seijou second years working at their library
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 23:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8421970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodhirookes/pseuds/bodhirookes
Summary: Kyoutani and Yahaba work together at their university's library and everyone (Watari and Kunimi) suffers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this for ficweek's writing week over on Tumblr, and today's prompts were Soul Mate AU, Uni AU and the color red, so I chose the Uni AU and red is kind of slipped into the end but I honestly forgot about trying to incorporate that so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ and Kyoutani and Yahaba are soulmates anyways lbr so I hit all three marks. Also, this is my first time writing for any of the Seijou members so excuse if they are a little OOC or ??????? 
> 
> Title is from Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey!

Honestly, Yahaba is surprised that they’re both still employed. _Together_.

“Toot toot,” he whisper-shouts at some freshman; they look ready for death or to fight Yahaba with their bare hands. They shove themselves up against the bookcase, glaring meanly, and Yahaba just waves while he wheels past. “Thanks, darling.”

Kyoutani, the pusher of the book cart, sighs behind him. “You’re the meanest librarian in the history of librarians. Don’t order people around.”

Yahaba puts his hand out as the signal for Kyoutani to stop, and from his perch on the end of the book cart, shoves an Economics textbook back into place. He then turns and gives Kyoutani a cheeky wink. “I do what I want.”

Yahaba sees Watari putting away some biographies on the other side of the shelf, and whisper-shouts to him: “Right, Watari?” 

Watari doesn’t even look up. “I am definitely not the right person to be asking that question. The one you _should_ be asking is the man who is literally carting your ass around the building.”

Kyoutani snorts, but when Yahaba looks back at him, he’s pretending to sort through a stack of German textbooks and workbooks. Yahaba doesn’t know whether to deck him or kiss his nose.

Instead of doing either of those, he taps impatiently on the cart handle. “Excuse me, but we’re running behind schedule. The light’s been green for ages now, driver."

Kyoutani does look up then, and he quirks an eyebrow. He lets go of the German stuff to hold onto the bar of the cart, and then he jerks his arms up, sharp and quick, and Yahaba lets out a small shout. A few books topple onto the ground and a girl stops mid-turn from another aisle into theirs.

Watari looks up, too, and there is zero emotion on his face. “I really, really just want them to fire you two. It would be better in the long run. I know it would.”

The girl creeps down the aisle towards them. She walks with all the quiet grace that Kyoutani and Yahaba have never possessed, comes to a stop by the cart, and watches them with one eye while she crouches down to grab a fallen textbook. It has something to do with Spanish, and Yahaba nods in appreciation.

“Thanks,” she actually-whispers, and gives them a warbly smile before tailing it to the other end of the aisle. 

They both watch as she disappears, and when Kyoutani turns back around, he is only inches from Yahaba’s nose. Yahaba can count all the flecks of gold in his eyes, and it makes his stomach twist.

“At least she found the book she needed,” he says, and doesn’t even try to hide his grin. Yahaba really, really loves him. “Watari couldn’t have done that any better.”

“I could have.” comes from the biographies, and a giggle escapes from Yahaba’s lips without warning. Then Kyoutani is laughing, too, and he has to press his face into Yahaba’s shoulder to keep it from booming out across the entire building.

They watch Watari’s short body move through the aisle away from them, muttering “Fuckin’ animals,” under his breath, and Yahaba smothers his laughter against Kyoutani’s forehead.

After a few moments of trying and failing to collect themselves, Yahaba indulges himself by pressing a kiss to Kyoutani’s forehead, and then pulls away.

“Let’s show him who sucks,” he says, and Kyoutani pulls away too, still grinning and eyes bright.

“If we stock more books than him, maybe it will knock the stick out of his ass.”

“Or knock him off of his high horse.” Yahaba giggles again, and raps his knuckles by the bar. “But for now, you’re my traveling horse, so it’s not the same.”

Kyoutani grabs the bar with both hands and pushes the cart forwards, en route to the language section. Yahaba encourages him with a whisper-shout of “Onwards, noble steed!” and Kyoutani leans over him to press a retaliating kiss into the side of his head.

They are probably actually disgusting. 

_**~.~.~** _

Yahaba and Kyoutani have nearly identical schedules, so they spend most of the day together, both in class and at work. They’re both studying veterinary sciences, they both live in the same dorm building, and they work the same hours at the library. The only difference in their schedule is that Kyoutani is taking a Gender Studies class for a social sciences credit and Yahaba is taking creative writing because he wants to.

So this means that they spend a lot of spare evenings in the library together, kicking ass and taking names. And this is how they find out about Joystick.

Joystick is the nickname that was given to a special computer near the back of the library; sometime in the beginning of September, someone had taken it upon themselves to upload a lot of really stupid, fun PC games onto a computer, and no one has ever taken them off or said anything to a faculty member.

Kyoutani and Yabaha, naturally, take full advantage of this during spare minutes when the library is slow and empty.

Kyoutani is enjoying a nice, quiet game of _Spider Solitaire_ when he feels something warm press against his side and a chin hook up onto his shoulder.

“Solitaire? _Really?_ What are you, eighty?”

Only years of practice keeps the stupid grin off of Kyoutani’s face from Yahaba’s teasing and the smell of his shampoo. “Fuck you.”

Yahaba snickers. “And you’re not even playing the real version. _Spider_ is for wimps.”

There is no way to argue that, besides: “It makes cool noises, though.”

A hand slaps Kyoutani’s off the mouse, along with a giggle of “You’re so _lame_ ,” and Kyoutani easily lets Yahaba pick a different game to play.

Usually, Yahaba likes to go for games like _Galaga_ so that he can blow stuff up, or opens up the communal game of _Sims_ that everyone checks in on and adds to. There’s a whole story behind the character that was made for it (named Baburu) and as the history grows, so does the Twitter feed from the account someone made just for Baburu. No one knows who runs the Baburu account, but Yahaba strongly suspects either Kuroo Tetsuro or Bokuto Koutarou.

So Kyoutani is surprised when Yahaba types something in and is then greeted by the opening screen for _Super Mario Bros_.

Kyoutani makes a slight noise, mostly without his permission, and when he feels Yahaba look over at him, he turns to do the same.

Instead of a stupid or snarky grin, still left over from teasing Kyoutani about being a grandma, Yahaba is smiling sweetly. He announces:

“I thought we could take turns and play together!”

and Kyoutani’s chest tightens dangerously.

Honestly, fuck this kid.

“You’re the fucking loser,” he says, instead of ‘I love you so goddamn much that it physically pains me’.

Yahaba hears it anyway and kicks his foot in return. “Joke’s on you. You’re dating this fucking loser.”

Kyoutani wants to ask ‘ _How? How is that even fucking possible? You’re the most beautiful person I know’,_ but elects to ignore it, just as Yahaba ignored his unsaid words of endearment. “Joke’s on both of us- we’re both dating fucking losers.”

Yahaba turns to look at him again (Kyoutani never, not once, looked away) and laughs, and the grin Kyoutani tried so desperately to hide slips onto his face without warning. He doesn’t even care at all.

“I love you,” Yahaba tells him, easily, in a way that Kyoutani is still working on, and then kisses him just as easily.

Kyoutani stops thinking about how awkward and scared he is all the time and kisses him back, arms curling around Yahaba’s sides to keep him close. He lets the warmth that is always sitting and waiting spread throughout his body, lets the scent of Yahaba’s strawberry shampoo and his equally fruity, fresh cologne soothe him, lets the physical feeling of warm skin against his hands anchor him to the moment. He lets himself be grateful and tries not to think about messing this up.

Yahaba hums against him, satisfied, and then sits back without warning.

“Rock, paper, scissors to see who goes first,” he tells Kyoutani, eyes molten and bright, and Kyoutani could care less about the fucking computer game, just wants to kiss and kiss Yahaba until he can’t anymore. “Winner gets another kiss. Deal?" 

And because Kyoutani is whipped as hell, he nods instead of saying that he would rather just kiss Yahaba without having to wait and play for it at all. But the way Yahaba smiles again and the gleam in his eye brightens is almost worth is.

(It totally is. Kyoutani wins rock, paper, scissors but Yahaba beats him by a landslide in the actual game. Yahaba ends up waggling his eyebrows at Kyoutani, smug and boastful, but then Kyoutani gets to slide his hand into the back of Yahaba’s hair and kiss him until Yahaba forgets what his own name is. It’s absolutely worth it when Kyoutani gets to end the kiss first, suggest another round, and witnesses Yahaba’s own wrecked expression).  

They play a few rounds, kiss a few times, and then Kyoutani tells him that _Mario_ is dumb, anyways, and gathers up the courage to just kiss Yahaba because he can.

This is how Watari finds them, a half an hour later, kissing and being overwhelmingly unhelpful.

“I’m gonna fucking do it one day,” he quietly yells at them, and represses a shudder when they finally break apart and turn their sappy expressions up towards him. “I’m gonna tell our boss that you two spend more time having sex than doing actual work.” 

Kyoutani gestures between them, at the clothes that are definitely still on their bodies and the dicks that are definitely still in those clothes, but Watari waves him off.

“Please, just go stock shelves or- or, at least make out in the storage closet like normal human beings, alright? Jesus, you’re going to give some poor kid heart failure. Or give _me_ heart failure.” 

Watari glowers at them for another moment, in all of his short, powerful glory, and then turns to retreat back to the front of the library.

“Love you, ‘Tari!” Yahaba calls after him, and Watari just flips him off over his shoulder.

“Fuck you, Yahaba. I’m going to find Kindaichi and make him kick your ass.”

The notion (or the possibility) of that working makes Yahaba laugh so hard that he almost falls off of the chair he and Kyoutani are sharing. Only Kyoutani’s vice grip on his waist keeps him from doing so.

“He’s probably going to yell at me again tonight,” Yahaba tells Kyoutani, giggling and beaming. “Watari loves me, I promise.”

Kyoutani replies, monotone: “Yes. I can definitely tell." 

Yahaba laughs again, hitting Kyoutani’s shoulder, before letting his hand uncurl and settle. It’s enough to get Kyoutani going again, and he wants to pull Yahaba in to resume from Watari’s interruption.

“We might actually get fired if we don’t get some work done,” Yahaba says when Kyoutani kisses his neck, like he’s genuinely concerned. The encouraging hand on the back of Kyoutani’s head tells him otherwise.

“More time to do this, then,” is Kyoutani’s fabulous response, which does nothing to help either of them calm down or regroup.

Yahaba hums thoughtfully as Kyoutani kisses all of the moles and freckles on his throat, hands a constant, warm guide, and God, Kyoutani could do this for the rest of his life and it would always and never be enough.

The pinky on the back of his head taps, a little sign that Yahaba wants him to look up, and somehow, Kyoutani does.

“Let’s play another round. Whoever loses has to blow the other one in the storage closet.” When Kyoutani just looks at him, stunned, Yahaba shrugs and gives him a true, snarky grin. “Watari suggested it, not me.”

Kyoutani doesn’t even think after that. He turns to the computer, starts the game, and with Yahaba’s breath against his neck and his hands still pressed against his head and shoulder, Kyoutani deliberately lets Mario run into the first mushroom he sees.

“I lost,” he tells Yahaba, and then they’re off and running towards the supply closet, laughing breathlessly and slipping past Watari and Kindaichi undetected.

When they slip inside, Kyoutani doesn’t hesitate to shove Yahaba against the opposite wall and drop immediately to his knees. It makes Yahaba’s breath stutter, hands returning to Kyoutani’s hair and shoulder, and he lets out a sweet, helpless groan when Kyoutani rucks his shirt up to press kisses to his stomach and pulls on the button of his jeans.

“Next time, I get to pick the game,” Kyoutani tells him, fingers curled around the waistband of his boyfriend’s tight jeans. 

“No games,” Yahaba groans again, and he already sounds so fucking wrecked that it leaves Kyoutani dazed. “Next time, we’re just coming in here and doing this right from the start.”

He looks down at Kyoutani, _looks_ just as wrecked as his voice sounds, and Kyoutani says, honestly, with a nip at Yahaba’s lower stomach:

“I win either way.”

He’s pleased when Yahaba’s knees buckle, without a hand or a tongue even on his dick; then, he holds Yahaba up, in the strong, dominant way that always turns the other man into puddy, and takes (or gives?) his punishment like a champ. 

When they come out, only about seven minutes later, both sated and red, Watari almost bursts into tears and Kindaichi has to go and make him tea. Yahaba says nothing about Kyoutani’s game-related sex pun. Everything is as it should be.

_**~.~.~** _

When Kyoutani clocks in at 4:30 on Wednesday, a half an hour after Yahaba (because Mondays and Wednesdays are their only schedule deviation days, when Yahaba has Creative Writing earlier than Kyoutani has Gender Studies), he is handed a sticky note and is told:

“All the books are put away, I know you just turned in your paper for Gender Studies and are still a little stressed out, and Kunimi is covering Watari’s shift today, so we won’t get yelled at for having fun. Good luck.”

When Kyoutani looks down at the sticky note, he finds a clue to one of Yahaba’s infamous scavenger hunts written out, and he can’t suppress the delighted laugh or smile that escapes from the droughts of stress and exhaustion that have been pressing down on him for weeks. Yahaba gives him an equally happy smile in return, hands still hovering over the keyboard of his computer, and Kyoutani also can’t help but lean over and kiss him.

“I love you,” he tells Yahaba, too tired to be embarrassed, and Yahaba makes a pleased noise.

“Go, before someone finds it and takes it,” he says, and pushes Kyoutani towards the shelves. He’s got a pretty blush on his cheekbones and Kyoutani really, _really_ loves him.

The first clue says: “ _Go to the place where we nearly gave Watari a heart attack three weeks ago_ ”, and Kyoutani immediately sets off towards Joystick. He snickers, reading over the clue again, and hears Yahaba’s little giggle behind him when he figures it out.

When he approaches the computer, note clutched to his chest, Kyoutani finds that the computer is already being used.

“Hey, Kyoutani.” Kenma says, almost without looking up from the screen. He’s playing an actual PC game, not the stupid cartoon-y ones Kyoutani and Yahaba have wasted afternoons trying to beat, and Kyoutani watches as he moves his character around a bleak, medieval-looking village.

“Sorry. Yahaba told me there was something over here- sorry,” he finishes lamely, but Kenma just lifts the keyboard up and pulls another sticky note out from underneath it. It’s the same color as the one in Kyoutani’s hand, and he can see a little heart in the corner. 

“Yeah, he said you would be over here to get a clue.” Kenma’s lips twitch as he says this, and Kyoutani has never seen the shorter male smile before in his _entire life_ (a small lie- one time, at a Christmas party, Kuroo said something so ridiculous that Kenma _laughed,_  a little hiccupping giggle, but no one is supposed to talk about it), so he must find their game somewhat amusing. “So I found it before you got here. Sorry if that ruined the game.”

He sounds sincere, so Kyoutani’s not even annoyed. “No. Thank you.”

Kenma nods and then returns fully to his game, where his character is basically slaughtering the village’s entire army.

Kyoutani slinks away from Kenma, and reads the next clue.

“ _Go over to the window where we saw Oikawa fall off of his bike once_ ” is written out in Yahaba’s loopy scrawl, with cute little hearts adorning the spaces around it. Kyoutani smiles again, and heads over to the designated window, thinking about the time when he and Yahaba had been talking about some show and Yahaba had seen Oikawa out of the corner of his eye, had pointed it out to Kyoutani, and both of them had watched as Iwaizumi ran past Oikawa, yelling and gesturing at him, and in his haste to catch up to his boyfriend, Oikawa ran into a sign and fell off of his bike. Kyoutani remembers how they watched as Iwaizumi helped Oikawa off of the ground, looking really worried and apologetic, and how he and Yahaba had laughed so hard they cried and Watari almost had to call 119.

He walks up to the window and finds another sticky note on the glass, with even more hearts surrounding: “ _You’re doing so well!! Go find that hideous romance novel about werewolves and mating under the blood moon. It’s in the N-M section somewhere”._

Kyoutani, who turns and practically skips his way over to the fiction section of the library, is almost ashamed that he remembers the author’s last name perfectly and is actually ashamed knowing that he went back and re-read the whole book after they got done laughing at it. He is also pretty sure that he looks shameless, pulling the book out of place and making a noise of satisfaction when he sees it’s the right cover; a boy who is peering thoughtfully at a science fiction series gives Kyoutani a horrified look, glancing between his shaved head and the book in his heads, but Kyoutani just opens it to the page the sticky note is peeking out from.

It’s the scene where the two characters are mating for the first time, with lots of blood and biting and knotting, and Kyoutani thinks Yahaba’s final clue looks entirely too cute to be next to the words “I’m going to claim you as my werewolf Huntress.", which, _what the fuck_?

“ _I laughed at this for another five minutes before hiding your surprise. Go into our favorite study room and look under the table, where we made out at work for the first time_ ” is still surrounded by hearts, but also has a cute little drawing of Yahaba puckering up his lips in the corner. Kyoutani makes a mental note to keep these clues safe, if only for this one.

Luckily, no one is in the study room when Kyoutani creeps up to it, trying and failing to look through the window in the door without being super obvious. He can see the empty chairs, and a little package sitting underneath the table, with Christmas wrapping paper and a little bow.

“It’s November, Yahaba,” Kyoutani sighs to himself, fondly, and opens up the door.

Kyoutani bends to scoop the present off of the floor, and doesn’t even close the door or sit down before tearing into it; each shred of wrapping paper is a weight off of his back, from the stress of writing his latest essay to the ache of missing his little sister to the lack of sleep that he’s been getting lately. They all slink off him as the paper slinks and curls up on the floor. 

The present itself is nothing spectacular- just a library book, identical to the masses that Kyoutani works with almost every single day. But then he sees that it looks brand new, freshly laminated and stamped and labelled, and when he turns the book over to read the cover, it’s the newest book from one of his favorite authors. 

A sticky note on the cover reads: “ _This just came in today, so I got it ready and I’m letting you read it first! It’s due on November 17th. I love you xx”_ and Kyoutani almost bursts into tears because it’s easily the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for him.

He lets Yahaba know this by racing back to the front of the library, paper scraps in one hand and book in the other, and doesn’t even let Yahaba turn away from the computer before he’s behind the counter and pulling him in for a kiss. He hears Kunimi make a choked noise and fumble with a textbook, but he ignores the other man in favor of pressing closer to the one under his hands. 

Yahaba melts against him, typing forgotten, and Kyoutani wants to give him the sun, the moon and the stars, as if it will even begin to express his love for Yahaba. 

“How did you even-?” Kyoutani tries to ask, and ignores the stinging in his eyes. His week had been so _awful-_  

Yahaba smirks up at him, but ruins it by saying: “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” with gooey eyes to match the gooey words.

Kyoutani can’t help it (doesn’t even try to help it) when an uncharacteristically large grin spreads across his face, and he begins to pepper Yahaba’s face in kisses.

“ _Kentarou-_ ” Yahaba giggles, clutching at his shoulders, and Kyoutani almost just scoops him up and carries them both out of the building.

Kunimi makes a pained noise. “Yes, _Kentarou_ , that’s quite enough.”

Kyoutani turns to glare at him, but doesn’t remove his arms from around Yahaba’s sides or his mouth from Yahaba’s forehead. “I’m sorry, but as someone who is dating a man with a vegetable haircut, your point is invalid.” 

A girl using the self checkout station says quietly: “Ooh, burn,” in response to Kyoutani’s jab, and he finds himself smiling again and nodding at her in approval. Kunimi’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t deny the comment. 

“Fair enough,” is what he says instead, and goes back to logging in the stack of returns. 

Yahaba giggles again, and presses a kiss to Kyoutani’s chin. “I did all of your logging work already, since I got out of Creative Writing early, so you can just sit under the desk and read until it’s time to go home, if you want. Kunimi even helped me do it.” 

When Kyoutani looks back over his shoulder, Kunimi is fighting to keep a straight face. He points at Kyoutani but does not look up. “I do not care about your problems- make no mistake.”

Everyone and their grandmother can tell that he’s lying. 

Kyoutani grins at him (even though Kunimi is still avoiding eye contact) and then turns to grin down at Yahaba.

“I love you. Honestly and seriously.”

“Yeah,” Yahaba laughs, but his eyes are still gooey and so is his smile. “I know. I love you too.”

Kyoutani proceeds to sit under the desk for his entire shift and read his new book, head against Yahaba’s leg, and half listens to Kunimi trying to defend Kindaichi’s honor.

**_~.~.~_ **

Sometimes, just for fun, when they’re logging and searching and scanning for hours, they sit and talk about fun essay topics.

“How about, ‘ _Why Does all of the Food on Campus Make Me Want to Die?'_.”

“‘ _Petition to Raise the Salary of the Campus Dining Dishwashers.'_.”

“How about _‘Petition to Raise the Salary of Every Single Goddamn Campus Employee Because We Have to Be Nice to all of the Assholes.’_ C’mon, Yahaba, step up your game.”

“Fine. Let’s get deep: _‘Why Jack Could Have Definitely Fit on that Fucking Piece of Wood. Seriously Fuck Titanic.’_.” 

“ _‘I Will Auction off My Soul for One Corn Chip to See Jack and Rose Grow Old and Die Happy Together.'_.”

“ _‘I Will Auction off My Soul for One Corn Chip to Have Kyoutani Suck My Dick Tonight.’_.”

This is when Watari walks back from returning books to the shelves, and he makes a noise of absolute horror. “Are you playing that awful essay game? Here’s one: _‘When Will My Suffering End?’_.” 

Kyoutani nods at him, considering, and then says: “ _‘When Will Watari Stop Being a Little Bitch?_ ’.”

“I quit,” Watari announces, deadpan, and turns to go and hide in the staff room.

_**~.~.~** _

Kyoutani’s favorite shifts are, oddly, the ones they get on Saturday nights.

Mostly it’s because they just spend the night with each other, anyways, and when they get Saturday shifts, they get paid to do what they’d do at home: watch a movie. 

Since no one _ever_ comes into the library on Saturdays from around 7-10 at night, Kyoutani and Yahaba use the first hour to close mostly everything down and finish all of the logging, and use the last two hours to watch movies. There’s an old TV sitting on a cart behind the counter, one that only takes VCR tapes, and so every Saturday night that they work, Yahaba will pick out a movie and Kyoutani will make them popcorn and they watch a movie until it’s time to close.

Tonight, they’re watching _Pocahontas,_ curled up behind the front desk with a blanket over their laps and Yahaba’s head on Kyoutani’s shoulder.

“Would you still try to get with me even if I was already kind of engaged someone else?” Yahaba asks him around a mouthful of popcorn. 

The answer is probably yes; if Yahaba had shown interest in any situation, Kyoutani would not hesitate because Yahaba is literally gorgeous and the sweetest person on the entire planet. 

What he says instead is: “Not if you regularly had conversations with a tree.” 

In turn, Yahaba reaches up and pinches one of his nipples playfully. It causes Kyoutani to shout and miss the final turn around the river in _Just Around the Riverbend_. 

“Yahaba, could you stop being an ass for _two seconds_?”

The brunette shrugs and crams more popcorn into his mouth. Kyoutani wants to lick the salt off of his lips but also wants some of the popcorn for himself. “You just admitted that my personal habits in relation to forest-conversing was a deal breaker for you, which is rude. I thought I would just pay you back in kind.”

Kyoutani thinks of saying something mean back, to keep up their string of banter, but he stops; the colors from the movie are turning Yahaba’s hair purple and red and orange and his skin a glowing yellow and the way he feels tucked up against Kyoutani’s side makes him feel that same yellow color on the inside.

He doesn’t know how to tell Yahaba this without embarrasing both of them or ruining movie night by choking on nothing. He wants to explain it all to his boyfriend, to make him understand that Kyoutani loves him in every way possible for everything that he is and does and says, but he also does not want to go into cardiac arrest.

So instead of trying to explain how Yahaba makes him feel normal and accepted and loved for the first time in his _whole goddamn life_ , he takes some of the courage he’s gained over the weeks and months and years of loving Yahaba, and tucks his hand under Yahaba’s chin to tilt his head up, away from the movie, and says, while looking into his purple and red and orange eyes: 

“I love you.”

A slow, sweet grin breaks out over Yahaba’s face, and when he leans up to kiss him, Kyoutani indulges in licking the salt and butter off of his mouth. It’s easy and wonderful and Kyoutani thinks Yahaba understands all of the things he doesn’t know how to say out loud.

When they pull away from each other, Yahaba kisses his jaw and tells him:

“I love you too,” and his own stream of untellable words sits right underneath it.

To cover up his blush and something else creeping up this throat, he pinches Yahaba’s hip and grins at the squawk he lets out. “But don’t start talking to trees or we’re actually breaking up.”

The other gives him an unimpressed look. “Kind of how you talk to animals? Specifically, dogs.”

“ _I can’t help it-_ ” 

Yahaba just laughs and tells him to pay attention to the movie, and Kyoutani does. But not before sneaking in one more kiss against Yahaba’s forehead, just to feel him smile another slow, sweet smile and feel his fingers twisting into Kyoutani’s shirt to pull him closer.

**Author's Note:**

> How about that ending, huh? Yeah, I changed it like fifty times and it still sounds stupid as fuck. Sorz.


End file.
